


Can You Call it Love?

by hxckxd



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Introspection, i get wayy too into talks about psychology and philosophy to no one's surprise, lots of talk about love n shit, the MC/reader here says this i wish i could say lmao, this is quite self indulgent too ngl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23946373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hxckxd/pseuds/hxckxd
Summary: So what if he fell in love? So what if suddenly he wanted to write romantic starry poetry about someone he just met. Someone that despite numerous attempts of his to push away, only pulled him closer. If he were to suddenly be inspired by contemporary romance, that was no one’s concern but his own.
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character, 707 | Choi Luciel/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 72





	Can You Call it Love?

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with the introspection. Can I get a hell yeah?

They say one is either left brained or right brained. Either drowned in the world of binary codes and calculus equations, or simply buried knee deep in the latest bestseller. Kids would grow up great at math and land some aimless job filled with numbers and money. Or perhaps they would be “starving” artists, with nothing but integrity, filled to the brim in debt but passionate for what they do. Those with a left brain are logical and cynical. Right brains being artistic and emotional. So why was it, that despite the hours spent fretting over numerical codes, studying equations, drowning in ones and zeros and x, y and z; he had a knack for poetry? He was good enough at hacking, so much so. that no one but his own twin could compare. He was intellectually capable of near impossible memorization. So, if learning were as easy as 1-2-3—

Why was there the want, _the need_ , to indulge himself in poetry? 

The engagement in crafting, to have the creative freedom to live life. That wasn’t what an ENTP was known for was it now? Logistics tossed to the side in order to succumb to feeling like a hopeless romantic. He shouldn’t feel. Robots were not meant to feel. Worthless people like him only suffer when they feel.

So what if he fell in love? So what if suddenly he wanted to write romantic starry poetry about someone he just met. Someone that despite numerous attempts of his to push away, only pulled him closer. If he were to suddenly be inspired by contemporary romance, that was no one’s concern but his own. 

It felt wrong. Enjoying life created a deep pit of bitterness. All the poetry, cars, and chips in the world, felt absolutely meaningless when he thinks about his place in the world. 

Perhaps that became the reason for his poetic endeavors. Emotions bottled up for so long they had been forgotten. It was common. Forgetting memories was a consequence of trauma and abuse after all. 

He was not sure what to feel. Was it anger? Disappointment? Maybe self-hatred for his existence. Did he feel love? Or was it merely compensation for the years upon years of loneliness. If he developed feelings for you, the one who showed him romantic affection, was it really, truly, love? He didn’t know. He could solve problems that would give the DaVinci code a run for its money, but love remained the greatest unsolved mystery. Was it fair to you? Didn’t it make him a hypocrite to proclaim love when he didn’t even know what love was? 

_ Hey. Hey. Earth to Saeyoung— ah, you finally looked at me! Tell me what’s on your mind.  _

_ I really shouldn’t, it would burden you and— _

_ Nope. Don’t start with that. How many times do I have to tell you that bottling up your emotions will do more harm than good.  _

That’s what he loved about you. Always checking on him. Always firm and assertive. You never backed down, especially when it came to his emotions. 

_ I’m scared.  _

_ Emotionally?  _

_ Yeah. I just— how do I know if I’m in love?  _

_ When I do this, what do you feel?  _

_ Uh- well- heh- my heart starts beating faster.  _

_ And your cheeks are going red too.  _

_ I want to kiss you.  _

_ And why is that?  _

_ I don’t know. There’s a magnetic pull that makes me want to hold you close to me, kiss you senseless. Tease you and give you everything in the world.  _

_ Do I make you happy then? _

_ Very much. You have no idea.  _

_ Sae, I think you just figured out what love is on your own.  _

Ah. So he did love you, and he loved Saeran too. Albeit not romantically, but the way a twin brother should, the way family was supposed to. He loved Vandy as well, and all of the RFA. The want to keep them safe, the teasing, the inexplicable happiness he felt, it was all love. He would say he had you to thank for helping him realize. Maybe you did help, but in your eyes, it was all himself, you just patiently spelled it all out for him. 

He was intuitive to emotions, until they came to his own. 

* * *

  
  
  


Money gave a happy pampered life, while the abused were left to be romanticized and felt sorry for; but no one was doing a damn thing.

So what was the point, in religion? In charity? The thing meant to do good, only caused more harm in the end. He put his trust in two people, once, and nothing good came out of it. He would never trust again. _~~He did trust again.~~_

_ How the fuck does this happen?  _

_ How does what happen Luciel?  _

_ Oh, don’t give me that bullshit RIka. Why did you fucking drug Saeran. _

_ It would help him see the light.  _

_ Are you fucking insane?  _

_ There’s no need for such language. It’ll make me angry.  _

_ Oh? It’ll make YOU angry? And what, does drugging my brother until his personality splits, until he fucking hates my guts, until his eyes turn blue and he forgets who is, does that—make you happy?  _

_ …  _

_ You’re sick, disgusting,  _ **_subhuman_ ** _. At least it was obvious that my mom hates me. At least I knew my dad wanted me dead. You lied. You promised to take care of him. I’ve done so many terrible things Rika. So many things to survive in this corrupted world. Yet, you know what I regret the most? Meeting you, leaving Saeran with you. Putting my faith and trust into V. It’s funny how you didn’t even care about the one person who would do anything in the world for you.  _

_ I was trying to make the world a better place— _

_ With what? Lies and deceit? Did you think you were God? You’re nothing but a sorry lowlife devil who can’t do anything for herself.  _

~~_Pacing back and forth, he wanted you near him, his solace, his angel, he needed you._~~

* * *

He knew he was the illegitimate child of the prime minister. Knew his father never loved him, while his mother saw him as a monetary gain and a horrible burden. He knew Rika never loved V. His whole life he never saw _true love_ , never knew what love, was afraid of the aspects and emotions that caused love. What he thought was love was sick and twisted. What he thought was love was drowned in emotional abuse, gas-lighting, and manipulation. What he thought was love all ended up so wrong, so absolutely fucked, how could he possibly let himself trust again? 

Despite this, a closed off and beyond broken boy fell in love instantly. Simply craving the affection his mother never gave him. No wonder he feared what he never had, never dreamed of having. Feeling anything beyond pain and suffering was foreign and unnatural. Allowing such feelings when his brother was only getting worse by the second felt selfish and he hated himself, _ hated himself _ ,  _**absolutely despised himself over it.** _

Saeran seemed to change by the day, sometimes it felt more like by the hour. A boy in absolute terror who cried out for his twin, wanting to hug him,  ~~_**and choke him by the neck, wanted him dead, wanted him suffering in the same way those fucking drugs from Mint Eye corrupted him to the core.** _ ~~

**_It's time for your medicine._ **

* * *

  
  


What's the Shakespearean version of a tragedy between twin brothers? They had suffered since birth. A case of Nature vs nurture; where nurture is superior, and Saeran is left with a completely split persona. 

Who’s to say that didn’t extend to Saeyoung too? The agent persona, the messenger persona, the persona he showed V, the persona he showed Vanderwood, the persona he showed the rest of the RFA, the persona he showed you. 

**_Which was the real one?_ **

Communication tells us we have multiple faces, slightly different personalities that are all ours. Personalities that bounce off social cues curated by the situations and people we are around. Our need to fit in, our need for self fulfilling prophecy is what makes us have these multiplying and seemingly infinite forms. 

**_So why did it feel so wrong?_ **

* * *

On the times that Saeran tried to kill him, he would have let it happen. On the days a mission cut a bit too close, he wasn’t afraid to die. Vanderwood would give him another long lecture about not being invincible. He hated how much Vanderwood saw through the farce. 

_ Do you even give a shit about me?  _

_ I give a shit about not dying, about not having the goddamn agency on my ass because you wanted to be a bigshot. _

He knew it was a lie, Vandy cared, Yoosung cared, Jumin, Jaehee, Zen, they all cared. V cared too, aside from his starry-eyed love for Rika. 

_ How could you let that happen to Saeran.  _

_ Luciel, calm down. You wouldn’t understand.  _

_ Ha. Tell me then. What could I possibly misunderstand about you allowing Rika to drug him. Look at him. Who is that? Where is my brother V.  _ **_Where is he?_ **

_ I didn’t know this would happen.  _

_ Funny. I didn’t know this would happen either.  _

_ Luciel.  _

_ Don’t call me that. I can’t believe I trusted you—you pathological liar. I can’t believe I thought you cared about me, let alone cared about Saeran. I saw you as my dad. What a fucking stupid delusion—HA.  _

_ I do care about you. I care about you and Saeran.  _

**_I don’t believe you anymore V._ **

* * *

_**~~The psychological repercussions of overthinking and intelligence was a daily fucking nightmare.~~ ** _

As much as he tried to be loving, it scared him. Terrified him that you would one day wake up and leave. That this whole thing was a mere dream, and he’d be alone again, in a bunker. Left alone to feign love for cars and cats and chips, pretending like nothing really mattered, a frivolous hacker. It's what he was,  _ all he was _ , ~~_**all he should ever be allowed to be.** _ ~~

_ Saeyoung. I love you.  _

_ You could do so much better. Why me? Why put yourself in so much danger? You should be with someone safe, and reliable. Someone that can protect you, someone that can— _

_ Be just like you. Yes you. Only you. You didn’t put me into danger, you never put me into danger, this entire time Rika pulled the strings. And you had no way of knowing either. It's not your fault. You don’t deserve these shitty consequences. You and Saeran deserve a better life, a happy life. You deserve to be showered in affections Saeyoung. If I have to say it every hour of the day I will. I’ll say it until you believe me.  _

_ …  _

_ I know. I know you spent your entire life listening to empty promises and hurtful words. I know it’s hard for you to believe me, and it doesn’t make you love me any less. And I certainly would never leave you for it. Saeyoung Choi, you’re stuck with me. I’ll show you by staying by your side, by cheering Saeran on, by taking care of you until the end of time.  _

_ ….  _

_ Why choose you? Because you’re clever, and extremely intelligent. You make me laugh harder than anyone else. You’re so intuitive, you know when something’s wrong with me or Saeran. When you told me the truth, I never felt afraid, it made me want to stay by you, stay with you, be with you more. You love so hard Saeyoung, you don’t realize how much you care for others. You’re so selfless and empathetic. You pretend to hide it away because you’ve only been hurt time and time again. But I still see it. I see that goofy persona. I see the Saeyoung that Saeran looks up to. I see the Saeyoung that V sees as a son. I see the Saeyoung that Vanderwood puts his trust into. I see the Saeyoung that would put his life on the line for someone he loves, who holds me close to him while we sleep at night. The one that nuzzles his head into my neck before waking up to make the best breakfast I’ve ever had. The one who builds robots, who wants to have a toy shop. The one who wants to write poetry, who wants to sit and stargaze. The one who wants a normal life, a happy and safe brother. Who wants a family and warmth and love and protection. I know, I love you because I know. I love you because perhaps some higher power made us destined to be together. But my free will won’t let you slip away. I love you. _

_ I’m Sorry. I love you too.  _

_ Don’t apologize, come here. Don’t hold back those tears either, I’m here no matter what.  _

There was so much he wished he could say. He was completely floored once again by you. Left speechless, and teary eyed, crying into your shoulder as you whispered comforts and soothing affirmations. Holding him close, rubbing his back in a way that made the anxieties slip away. This wasn’t the end. The insecurities would bubble up again. You would be there even then, providing the same stability and affection he needed. Therapy helped too. As Saeran showed progress, Saeyoung did too. Time just kept on going, and the hurts gradually, bit by bit, like grains of sand in a person-sized hourglass, faded away. 

  
_ Whether this feeling was happiness, content, love, or something else. It didn’t matter. Saeyoung Choi finally felt it _ .

**Author's Note:**

> kudos/comments are appreciated! even if you click on this and read to the end i appreciate you! 
> 
> follow me on twt: @lofiseven


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